


What is mortal in me

by Moonmoth



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Borussia Dortmund, Bundesliga, M/M, hubotic, kinderriegel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3918733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonmoth/pseuds/Moonmoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mats has tried to stay away from Neven, really. (Mats' POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What is mortal in me

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Was an mir sterblich ist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645717) by [Moonmoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonmoth/pseuds/Moonmoth). 



> _What is mortal in me, take it._
> 
> _It belongs to no one, not even me._
> 
> _-          Wolf Wondratschek_

 

"Neven and Mats" Kloppo reads from his list and hands me the key card. My stomach contracts. I had managed to get into a room with Kehli the last couple of times. Should have known Neven wouldn’t just stand by and watch.

"Everything okay with you?" Kloppo asks. I can only nod mutely. When I turn around, I catch Neven’s gaze. Unreadable, his face reveals nothing.

He makes an inviting gesture towards the lift and waits for me to lead the way. Silently we wait next to each other until the pling sounds and the doors open, then we push into the narrow cabin with our trolley cases. Our eyes meet again in the mirror. Neven holds the gaze, almost without blinking. The silence is almost a physical presence between us, a thick blanket that nearly chokes me. When did he and I last speak to each other alone? I can’t remember.

I am very relieved when the lift stops and the doors open. Finally I can breathe again.

"Which room?" Neven asks.

"314."

"To the left then."

I lead the way and can distinctly feel Neven’s eyes on my back. I can't help the raised hair on the back of my neck. The hotel corridor with the monotonous green carpet seems endless.

Having arrived at the right door, I slide the card through the slot, but the light stays red. I try again, but nothing happens. When I want to try it a third time, the card falls from my nervous hand and flutters to the ground. Neven and I bend down at the same time and come so close to each other that the familiar scent of Neven fills my nose. Instantly I have images in my head that I strictly forbid myself.

It's Neven who manages to reach the card. "Let me try." With a steady hand, he swipes the card, and of course it works for him, the green light comes on and the door can be opened.

He holds the door for me and I go first. He's right behind me, and before I can collect my thoughts, he slams the door behind us and pushes me against the wall with his body. Next to us, my suitcase falls over with a crash. He looks at me for a moment; his eyes are very close, roaming over my face, then he kisses me, hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. My bones instantly turn into water, and although I have the wall in my back, I have to hold on to Neven's shoulders. The feeling of his muscles under my hands only makes things worse. When his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt and caress the bare skin I finally summon up the will to push him away a bit and take a step to the side. "It’s nearly time to go down for dinner," I say, as if that were the real reason.

Neven looks at me in silence, his breath still heavy. He shrugs and starts to empty the contents of his suitcase into the wardrobe. I gained a little respite, nothing more. Neven throws his laptop and his phone onto the left side of the bed, as always, as he has done a hundred times before.

By the time we are finished unpacking our stuff, it is indeed time to go down for dinner. Neven doesn’t leave my side, constantly involving me in a conversation, touching me oh-so-casually. I’ve avoided him for weeks, now we share a room again, and somehow it seems impossible not to sit next to him again during dinner. Everything feels so incredibly familiar, at the same time I feel like I’m falling, unstoppably. This is not what I had planned. I had wanted to draw clear boundaries; instead I fall back under Neven's spell.

Only when he lets his hand slide up the inside of my thigh under the table do I jab my elbow into his ribs, move my chair away a little. Neven doesn’t seem to care, he just smiles this half-smile. He is aware of his effect on me, and won’t have any qualms about using it.

I make an effort to talk a little with the others at the table, but by and by, the hotel restaurant grows empty. The coach usually avoids telling adult men when to go to bed, but everyone knows what is expected, and match days are stressful enough, even if you are well-rested. I can’t put off returning to our room forever.

I empty my glass and get up; Neven is immediately at my side. I turn towards the stairs to escape at least that damn narrow lift, but even all these steps up to the third floor gain me no more than a few minutes. Then I'll be alone again with Neven, and I just don’t know what to do then.

I left the room card with Neven, he opens the door, throws the card on the table and falls onto the bed. I remain standing in the middle of the room undecidedly, with the door close to my back. As if running away were an option.

Neven grins at me and pats the mattress beside him. "Come here."

"Why?"

He rolls his eyes. "So I can defile you."

"Neven ..."

He gets up and saunters towards me, with the stroll of a big cat, leisurely and dangerous. In the sparse artificial lighting of the room, even his eyes seem to glow green.

He puts a hand on the back my neck and pulls me closer.

"Neven, please, I've promised Cathy!"

He stares at my mouth, but he doesn’t seem to hear the words. Instead he kisses me as only Neven kisses, hungrily and captivating and overwhelming.

He lets go of my lips, kisses the corner of my mouth, pushes one hand from my neck up into my hair while pulling me closer at the hip with the other. He bends my head to the side to kiss a strip down my neck. I gasp.

“Neven”, I whisper, sigh, "Neven, please." I don’t even know what I’m asking for any more. For him to stop? To continue?

Neven lets go of me, but only take off his shirt with a swift movement and immediately grab the hem of mine. Resignedly I raise my arms; Neven throws my shirt carelessly to the floor next to his. The way he looks at me makes my stomach contract with such longing that I reach for him and pull him close. He lets his big hands move slowly down my back, then pushes them under the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms and grabs me, pulls me closer. I press my nose against his shoulder and breathe him in deeply. The sound from my throat is more a sob than a moan. I've missed this so much. I’ve missed _him_ so much.

Neven directs us both towards the bed; I sit on the edge and let Neven continue to undress me. Again and again he stops to kiss me. When I'm naked, Neven walks to the wardrobe and searches through it. I stare at his bare back, his shoulders. When he comes back, he puts a tube of lube on the nightstand. I know what's going to happen now, and feel unable to stop it. I shouldn’t do this, but every fibre of my body cries out for it.

With a single movement Neven slips the tracksuit bottoms and boxer shorts from his narrow hips, then he takes my hand and pulls me with him into the middle of the bed. His hands on my skin feel so familiar, so undeniably right. There’s no stopping him now; he pushes me down onto the bed, covers my face with kisses. "How could you do this to me?" he whispers. It’s the first time he shows that my silence, my distance have hurt him. I know I had a thousand good reasons, I just can’t think of even one right now.

Neven sits up, reaches for the lube and pushes my legs apart. The preparation is short considering that the last time was so long ago. When he positions himself I'm nervous for a second, but then it's simply as overwhelming as always. So all-encompassing that I have to close my eyes. This is the moment I love more than all the orgasms: surrendering yourself, making yourself vulnerable. I’ve never been able to do that with anyone else like I do with him.

When he is completely inside me, he pauses for a moment and hugs me tightly, kissing me again. Then he begins to move, cautiously at first, then increasingly harder. He hasn’t forgotten anything; he still knows how to hold himself so that every thrust pierces me to the core.

He has little patience today however, he doesn’t hold back one bit. I raise one hand up above my head and brace myself against the headboard to withstand the onslaught, with the other I touch myself. Neven by turns looks at me and then closes his eyes again; above the sound of his breath and mine I keep hearing him muttering words I don’t understand. "You’re mine," I think I hear, but maybe that's just in my head.

When I come, I grab his shoulder and pull him down to me, lightly bite his neck. He presses deep into me, and the jagged moaning in my ear tells me that he’s coming almost simultaneously. He lowers himself onto me, and I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my chest.

He rolls gently off me, and for a while we just lie there next to each other, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. Slowly, my breathing calms down.

"I can’t leave her," I say into the silence. I can’t look at him.

"I'm not stupid, Mats." He knows, of course, but he won't talk about it. In the corner of my eye I see how he reaches for the bedside table and puts out the light. No one moves. I am alone in the sudden blackness.

Then I hear Neven sigh, he grabs me, pulls me close and places a kiss on my temple in the darkness. I’d like to say something to him, but I don’t know what.

I grope for his hand in the dark and squeeze it. He squeezes back.

I let my eyes fall shut.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, but the football fandom seems quite tolerant of non-native speakers, so I thought I'd give it a try.
> 
> Comments are welcome.  
> If you'd rather speak to me privately, message me on tumblr:  
> http://itch-for-subotic.tumblr.com/


End file.
